


Not Such a Bad Thing

by beccabecalm



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Post-Mockingjay, Pre-Epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccabecalm/pseuds/beccabecalm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Peeta reveals the surprise he has been planning for weeks Katniss is underwhelmed. But she soon realises that Peeta's new hobby could have benefits for both of them, in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Such a Bad Thing

 

I wake up to the sound of geese honking through the open window across the room and scrunch my eyes closed again before snuggling back into Peeta’s arms. He sighs against my neck and nuzzles his face into my hair as his hand comes to rest on my hip.

 

It must still be early; Peeta never could make himself lie in bed for any extended period of time and had to be out of bed as soon as he was awake. Well, besides the mornings where I made his stay worthwhile. As his lips start to trail kisses down my neck I knew that today is going to be one of those days.

 

The hand resting on my hip turns me gently onto my back and then Peeta is hovering over me, his smile bright even though his eyes are still clouded with fatigue. We kiss languidly, fully content with taking our time. Peeta had learnt over the years that as much as I liked our frenzied, lust-fuelled sex, it was moments like these that I craved. With his toned, pale body pressed fully against mine, his erection resting against my thigh as he works to bring me to orgasm with his fingers, and then his tongue before finally filling me with his cock.

 

He pulls away from our kiss and lowers his mouth to my collarbone, his teeth nip gently and I can’t stop the gasp that escapes me. Peeta chuckles in response and lifts his head. His smile is contagious and I feel my own spreading across my face as I take in the crinkles at the corner of his eyes. I’m lifting my head from the pillows beneath it when I’m distracted by the slamming of a door and then the panicked squawking and flapping of several agitated geese.

 

Peeta sighs and drops his head onto my chest. In a matter of seconds we hear the back door to our house fly open and then the clattering of bottles in our kitchen.

 

“It’s your turn.” Peeta mumbles against my breast, puckering his lips and leaving a gentle kiss on the swell before pulling away and rolling onto his back next to me.

 

I snort and roll onto my side to face him. “If I go down there he’s leaving with an arrow in his ass.”

 

He throws his arms over his eyes and groans loudly before throwing the covers from on top of him and reaching for his prosthetic. His hands are quick as he attaches it to his thigh and he stands gingerly, testing that it supports his weight for a moment before heading over to his chest of drawers for some clean clothes. My eyes focus on the single dimple in his firm ass cheeks, slowly drifting down and admiring the skin of his thighs, coated in fine blond hairs that are barely visible in the early morning light.

 

After dressing himself in a white t-shirt and his comfortable house jeans Peeta wanders over to my side of the bed and leans down to kiss my forehead gently.

 

“He deserves an arrow in his ass for disturbing us today.”

 

I hum in agreement. “It was very inconsiderate of him. You’d think he’d have learnt not to come here so early by now.”

 

Peeta straightens his back and stretches, his shoulder blade popping loudly as he releases a satisfied sigh. “He must be out of liquor.”

 

At this I perk up. If Haymitch is out of liquor then we must be due a supply train. Apparently the evidence of my peaked interest is written all over my face because Peeta smirks down at me.

 

“Seems we’re due a delivery.” He says, the smile growing as I offer a shrug in reply.

 

“Maybe I could come to the station with you.” I offer.

 

Peeta opens his mouth to reply but I already know what he’s going to say. He’ll tell me that my being at the station for collection would ruin the surprise he has been planning for weeks and that I’ll just have to be patient for a little while longer.

 

He knows I hate surprises but he insists on it every once in a while, claiming to love the small crinkle between my eyebrow as I try to work out what he could be planning. In the eight years since we moved in together I have never once figured him out. Peeta still has a way with words and seemingly now only applies this particular skill when it serves to misdirect me. He once had me convinced that he wanted to build a pigpen in our back yard and a coop that we could keep chickens in. He spoke of little else for two weeks. One night after dinner he dragged me outside to show me where they would go, needless to say when he dropped to one knee and proposed beneath the stars I was completely shocked. He never spoke of pigs or chickens again.

 

“You’re not coming to the station.” He replied as his hand drop to my shoulder and squeeze gently. “Just do whatever you want to do, go out to the woods…it looks like a nice day.”

 

After giving me a lingering kiss he turns and leaves the room, heading downstairs to offer Haymitch one of our hidden liquor bottles before sending him on his way. Peeta will be heading to the bakery as soon as Haymitch is out of the house so I decide to head straight to the woods to check the snares I set up yesterday.

 

I spend a few hours in there and simply enjoy the silence of the day. Outside of the two plump rabbits I collect from the snares my trip is fairly uneventful, I spot a small group of turkeys but decide to leave them be for now, at least one drawer in our freezer is stuffed to the brim with turkey meat already.

 

My mind is racing with possibilities of what Peeta’s surprise could be. He hasn’t been dropping hints this time or even mentioning it in conversation unless the forthcoming supply train is specifically brought up. I force myself to remember the first time he hinted that he was planning something and seem to recall that it was just after Johanna had returned to District 7 following a brief trip to stay with us.

 

What could he and Johanna have possibly discussed that would lead to him ordering something from another district to surprise me with?

 

And then it dawns on me.

 

The only thing Johanna likes to discuss with specific interest is our sex life. The mere thought of Peeta and I engaging in any sexual activity seems to peak her curiosity more so than even her own, decidedly more adventurous, exploits.

 

I seem to remember an evening where Peeta stayed up drinking with Haymitch and Johanna for hours after I had gone to bed and when he finally turned in he had been insatiable. The next day he revealed that Johanna had been talking about the various toys she had been experimenting with, things she used to deplore during her time in the capital but absolutely loved now. He expressed interest in wanting to send for some but I had been reluctant. I didn’t feel that our sex life needed any spicing up but as time went on I started to warm up to the idea.

 

Peeta would talk about all the things he wanted to do to me as he ran his hands over my body, convincing me with his actions as well as his words that using something else during these moments would enrich the experience for both of us.

 

As I walk back through the woods into Victor’s Village I can feel heat pooling in my centre, the thought of Peeta ordering one of those vibrating devices he had researched aroused me more than I thought it would. I couldn’t wait for him to get home.

 

I try to keep busy while he’s at work, skinning the rabbits I had collected and preparing the meat for a stew. It’s still early afternoon and Peeta won’t be home for another or so. As it’s been a while since I had last taken meat over to Greasy Sae I pack a bag full of turkey, deer and squirrel meat and grab a loaf of bread from the kitchen counter and then make the short walk to her house.

 

She greets me warmly and invites me inside, seemingly surprised to see me. Her house is empty and I realise her grandchildren must still be at school. We make small talk for a while and Sae is eager to tell me all about how her grandkids are doing at school, apparently the oldest is planning to head out to District 4 and train as a doctor. My mind immediately recalls Prim’s natural talent as a healer but I swallow the lump in my throat as soon as it forms. I had long since moved past having my entire day, perhaps several days, ruined by the mere mention of something I would associate with my little sister. But I smile and change the subject; I didn’t want Peeta’s surprise to be marred by anything.

 

I finish the small cake she had offered me and walk home again, the sun is low in the sky and I know Peeta will be home soon. As I’m preparing the vegetables for our stew I hear the front door open and then Peeta calling my name, requesting that I come to the front door. I drop the knife into the water bowl and dry my hands before heading out into the hallway. Peeta is nowhere to be seen but he’s left the door open.

 

As I walk out onto the front porch I see my husband standing in the front yard with a huge smile on his face. I smile in return but then my eyes are drawn to his hands. Each is resting on the metal handlebars of brand new bicycles.

 

My face must show my disappointment because the smile on Peeta’s face disappears.

“You don’t like them?” He guessed with a sigh. “This one is yours.” He adds, pushing the bike in his right hand forward so I can see it more clearly. It’s deep green in colour with a chrome design that resembles vines wrapped around the main body of it.

 

I carefully consider my words before responding. “I just wasn’t expecting this…you’ve never even mentioned wanting to cycle.”

 

“Exactly.” He says with a wink before taking a few steps forward, dragging the bikes beside him and coming to rest just beneath the steps of our porch. I walked down to meet him, dropping a brief kiss to his lips and then grabbing the handlebars of the bike he bought for me. “But Johanna mentioned that she takes a bike through the forests in seven and it’s really relaxing. And the kids in town seem to enjoy racing around on them. I thought it would be nice for us to learn.” He adds quietly.

 

“Did you learn when you were little?” I seem to remember seeing Peeta’s brothers on a small, rusty bicycle a couple of times in our youth.

 

He scrunches up his face as he tries to recall if my statement is correct or not. “I think my brothers had a red bike, but just after I learned to balance on it the thing got smashed up and I couldn’t ride it. My mother said Seam kids must have done it.”

 

My heart sank, I knew that it was unlikely that Seam kids would have destroyed a bike; they wouldn’t have had the energy to mangle a metal frame to the point that it was unusable, but I decide not to mention it.

 

He pushes the bike toward me again and I bring my hand to rest on the handlebar. It is a nice thought. As much as I enjoy our lazy days at the weekend, he knows that I get edgy sometimes and that I’ve been looking for something to fill my time that doesn’t involve hunting. I had never even considered this as an option but the hopeful look on Peeta’s face made me want to at least try to learn how to use the contraption in front of me.

 

“Are you going to be ok on yours? With your leg?”

 

He nods with a smile and brings his bike in front of him so I can see it better, the frame is a deep orange but lacks the artistic flare that mine has. “I had it modified.” He says, vaguely gesturing to the pedal which has a strange round casing made of metal instead of the regular pedal on the other side. I listen as he explains how it will help him balance and clip on to his prosthetic so his foot won’t slip off as he cycles. Peeta makes me promise to agree to spend the weekend attempting to master the art of balancing properly before we head inside for dinner.

 

Saturday morning rolls around far too quickly and Peeta doesn’t ease me into the day with kisses like I was expecting. Instead he climbs from our bed after a brief cuddle and heads straight for a shower and is back in the room within five minutes, towelling off his hair as he crosses over to his dresser for an outfit. I pull the covers back over my head when he declares that he’s going to make us a light breakfast to tide us over while we get to grips with our bikes.

 

He’s back in a couple of minutes with crepes and pulls the cover from on top of me with his free hand, plonking down on the bed next to me and passing me a plate with a warm smile. I say nothing but start to work my way through breakfast; it’s delicious, as Peeta’s baking always is but I don’t tell him so. I’m not in the mood for pleasantries this morning and I’m worried that if I say anything at all it will ruin his good mood so I just stay quiet, occasionally humming my approval with his cooking.

 

I take a quick shower and meet Peeta outside a while later. He’s crouched down and examining the device that will support his prosthetic with a frown. My hand finds the top of his head and I run my fingers through the blond curls, dropping it to graze the broadness of his back before walking over to where my bike is propped against the fence at the side of our yard.

  
  


By the time I’ve wheeled the bike over to Peeta he has mounted the frame and is leaning over to secure his prosthetic to the pedal.

 

“So what if you fall off?” I ask, eying the firm grip around his false leg. “Won’t you be trapped under it?”

 

Peeta chuckles loudly. “Well, Katniss…I don’t think it’s going to do much more damage to my leg if that’s what’s bothering you.” His laugh gets louder when he takes in the frown on my face but I don’t join in. “Don’t worry about it. There’s a release mechanism that’s fairly easy to work.”

 

I nod and mount my own bike, my feet barely reaching the ground beneath them. Peeta climbs off of his and walks over to stand behind me; his hands come to rest on the seat and the handlebar. He encourages me to lift my feet from the ground to rest on the pedals instead and he supports my weight easily, allowing me to feel how I need to balance to make this work.

 

“Ok?” He mumbles next to my ear, and his hot breath on the shell sends a shiver down my spine.

 

The effect this man has on me, even after all this time, is ridiculous; hence why I’m out here first thing in the morning making a fool of myself.

 

We spend about twenty minutes with me perched on the bike and Peeta leading me around the yard. He keeps telling me that he remembers his dad doing this with him and his brothers when they were learning and that it doesn’t take too long to get the hang of. I start pedalling slowly and he jogs to keep up with me as I work my way around the garden. This isn’t too difficult, I decide, as I gain more confidence and start to pedal faster. I turn to smile at my husband and realise he’s several yards behind me, giving me a thumbs up and calling after me that I’m doing great.

 

I panic and my hands start shaking on the handlebars. I flounder for a moment but throw my feet on the floor to steady myself. The pedal continues to rotate and whacks me on the back of my calf. My leg buckles slightly but I stay on my feet and before I can even acknowledge the pain in my leg my husband is by my side, his hand resting on my lower back as he asks me if I’m ok. As it happens, I’m fine; the pain is minimal but will leave a bruise so I force a smile and tell him not to worry.

 

He ponders my statement for a moment then crouches to check for himself. The palm of his hand is warm as it curves around the front of my shin and lifts my leg for a closer inspection. His lips plant a soft kiss to the inflamed skin before he rises up to his full height next to me.

 

“I think you’re getting the hang of this.” Peeta says brightly. “Can I try now?”

 

I simply nod and push my bike back into the corner. After helping Peeta mount his bike and secure his leg it becomes very apparent that I won’t be able to support his weight as he had with me minutes ago. Luckily he doesn’t seem to need much help. His weight seems evenly distributed and he is balancing fairly easily by himself, he’s moving slowly around the yard but doesn’t fall off.

 

Haymitch wanders out as Peeta is making laps around the dirt. I wander over to the fence and greet our surly neighbour, noticing the almost empty bottle of white liquor in his hand.

“Looks like he’s having fun.” Haymitch’s voice is slurred but I can tell from his tone that he’s not making fun of my husband, not maliciously anyway.

 

“He is. Seems to be a natural.”

 

“Think he’ll keep it up?”

 

I watch the smile on Peeta’s face grow as he spots Haymitch and he lifts a hand to wave at us. 

The bicycle wobbles violently and his face twists into a grimace as he quickly drops it back to the handlebar. He doesn’t lose his balance completely but seems shaken as he cycles over to us and comes to a stop.

 

“Any chance I can convince you to have a go?” He asks Haymitch, winking in my direction as the older man snorts in amusement.

 

“I don’t think so, boy. Think I’ll leave that to you and your wife.”

 

Peeta throws his arm around my shoulder, drags my body to his side and plants a loud kiss to my temple.

 

“I have a feeling Katniss won’t be so easy to convince.”

 

I try to act indignant, and consider accusing my husband of being completely wrong. But he isn’t. We both know that I’ll indulge him in the occasional outing since he bought the things but this will mainly be his hobby until he loses interest.

 

As it turns out Peeta doesn’t lose interest at all. He takes to riding his bicycle to the bakery each morning, claiming to enjoy the silence that the early hours afford him but noting that it isn’t accompanied by the loneliness of the much longer walk into town. His ride home, however, always take much longer as he can’t resist racing the young children playing in the street and then offering them the cakes and cookies he was planning to bring home.

 

The months go by and I begin to notice subtle changes in his body. Although Peeta had always been in good shape his belly had softened in the years after the war and the daily bike rides seems to have toned up the muscles there again. I wouldn’t exactly class it as an improvement but I can certainly notice the difference. My fingers tend to trail along the defined skin of his stomach as he catches his breath beside me in the aftermath of our sex.

 

His appetite for me has increased too. Before he took up cycling I would have said that there was no way we could make any more time for our intimate relations than we already did; but the extra half an hour we were afforded each morning, in addition to Peeta’s constant good moods, has revitalized our sex life in a way I know no toy ever could.

 

Peeta is lying beside me one morning when he mentions cycling in the woods. I immediately tell him that it isn’t an option. The noise and commotion from him on his bicycle would scare off all the game. For a moment he looks crestfallen but he quickly recovers, offering me a long kiss before heading to the shower.

 

As I’m walking through the woods later that day I decide to stay close to the edge. There is never much game here and the trees are nicely spaced. Peeta and I often walk this trail before settling in the meadow for picnics. My eyes are drawn to the floor and I notice that it’s fairly flat with tightly packed dirt. It would be perfect for the tyres on Peeta’s bike. I don’t know why I even tried to convince myself that I wouldn’t let him cycle through here. Even though it would affect the area to a certain degree I can’t deny Peeta anything and I know I’ll be returning home this evening and telling him he’s free to roam this track.

 

I tell him over dinner. His face lifts from where he was focusing on his plate and his toothy grin makes him look ten years younger. He starts rambling immediately about how much fun it’ll be and how he’ll bake me fresh cheese buns and a variety of doughnuts.

 

He does both. And then he gathers the fresh strawberries and apples from our fridge and packs them into a small plastic tub. The final touch for our lunch out in the woods is a bottle of sparkling cider that Annie had sent for our last anniversary. I knew this was included entirely for my benefit, considering the last time we had opened a bottle Peeta had only had a glass and a half from the entire bottle while I polished off the rest in record time.

 

Peeta throws on the backpack and mounts his bike. He is so much more confident than I am, and although I can still balance easily and pedal at a quick pace Peeta is ahead of me for the majority of the journey. He occasionally drops back to check on me, offering me the chance to take a break several times as we work our way through the trail in the woods. Each time I ignore him even though my legs are killing me and I can feel the back of my shirt developing a wet patch as I sweat under the hot summer sun.

 

After about a half hour we end up at a small clearing near the stream that winds through the south of the woods. I know we’re not too far away from my father’s lake but the journey from here is all uphill and I know there’s no chance of me making it unless we go on foot. As I drop onto the blanket Peeta has set out I can feel the heat in my face and know I’m breathing heavily. The muscles in my thighs are twitching in fatigue and I want nothing more than to fall asleep right here.

 

Until I turn to see my husband stretched out on the blanket beside me. He’s wearing shorts that grip his thighs but they have ridden up slightly to expose the toned muscles that lead to his knees. As much as I’ve appreciated the firming of his stomach muscles it’s the change to his thighs that have become my true weakness. Right now they are covered in beads of sweat that cling to the light hairs there and I can’t resist running my hand from the top of his knee to the edge of his shorts, pushing them higher as my hand moves before letting my fingertips play with the soft hair.

 

A low groan escapes his lips and he cracks his eyes open slowly as he rolls towards me. My hand slips around to the back of his thigh and I squeeze my hand around the muscle there. Peeta smiles lazily, his hands come to rest on my hips and he drags me on top of him.

His head lifts and he brings his lips to mine. Our kiss is lust-filled and heat rushes to my centre at the thought of my husband taking me right here on the picnic blanket. My hands come to rest on his chest and I push up forcefully, breaking our kiss noisily. I press my hips down onto him and sigh when I feel the beginnings of a bulge forming in his shorts.

 

It never takes much to get Peeta going, especially when I’m on top of him. He always tells me that nothing makes him feel more wanted than when I move on top of him to bring myself to climax. I can feel the wetness pooling in my underwear and gyrate my hips into his rhythmically. Peeta’s hands have slid under my shirt and his palms are cupping my breasts, offering them gentle squeezes in a sporadic fashion, his fingers occasionally find my nipples and manipulate them between his thumb and forefinger until they are straining peaks in his hands.

 

He quickly lifts my shirt over my head and throws it to the ground beside us, my bra quickly follows and Peeta rises from his position on the blanket to sit up between mu legs instead. His mouth closes around my breast and his tongue is warm as it flicks over my nipple playfully. I bring a hand to rest on the back of his head to keep him close to me and his eyes lift to seek out mine. He releases my nipple with a loud popping noise and then raises his head as I lower mine. His tongue is in my mouth immediately and I moan my approval, the sound gets to him and he begins thrusting his hips upwards to meet my steady gyrations.

 

I push his t-shirt up impatiently and as he reaches to lift it over his head I bring my hands to the waistband of his shorts. My efforts to remove them are aided by Peeta lifting his hips for a long moment and his underwear joins his shorts as I shove them down his legs. I move to the side of him and reach to remove my own pants; my eyes are fixated on the flexing muscles of his thighs as he toes his shoes off before kicking his shorts away from him without a care.

 

Once I’m naked I throw my leg back over his hips and run my wet slit up and down his hardness. He groans at the sensation and pants my name, bringing his fingers to circle my clit slowly as I move. I appreciate the gesture but I don’t need it right now, my clit is throbbing against his fingers and I don’t want to come without him inside me.

 

Peeta expresses his disappointment with a quiet moan as I push his fingers from my centre and lift my body away from his. His hand instead finds his shaft and he pumps it slowly, his eyes fixed on the sway of my breasts as I move to his side before turning around quickly and straddling his waist with my back to him. It’s a position we quite often find ourselves in but the hard ground beneath us is very different to the softness of our mattress and I know that my knees will be aching by the time we finish. But right now I don’t care. The extra support under my legs is aiding my movements and I moan with happiness as Peeta lines his cock up with my entrance and allows me to sink down on him.

 

I pause for a moment when my hips are flush with his and take a moment to simply enjoy the feeling of his thickness inside of me. Peeta takes this brief moment to lower himself back to the blanket beneath us, lying flat on his back and bringing his hands to grasp my hips. He thrusts upwards playfully and I take it as a cue to start moving on top of him.  My hands come to rest on his thighs as I begin to move and I focus my eyes on the twitching of his muscles beneath his pale skin. Peeta groans as my fingernails trace his skin and the muscles flex harder as he begins to thrust upward to meet me halfway.

 

Our skin meets loudly and the head of Peeta’s dick is nudging my sweet spot each time he enters me and I can feel my release building much more quickly than I would have liked. Peeta’s thrusts are beginning to lose their finesse and he drags my hips down forcefully, beginning to guide my movements the way he wants them. Usually I wouldn’t comply so easily but I’m too close to care right now. My hand leaves his thigh with a final scrape of my nails against his skin and he groans my name loudly.

 

My fingers find my clit and I circle it quickly, concentrating on the feel of my husband’s cock filling me and enjoying the way his hands start to clench around the flesh of my hips.

“I’m close Katniss.” He says with a moan and the rich, deep timbre of his voice has me clenching my walls around him.

 

With a final hard thrust I feel myself reach my peak and my body drops forward as I ride the waves of my orgasm. Peeta is grunting with every thrust into me as he chases his own high but I’m too distracted by the almost violent motions of the muscles in his thigh to pay much attention as he continues to guide my body up and down his shaft. He calls my name as he swells inside me and fills me with his come.

 

He thrusts lazily a few times before dropping his hips and slipping out of me. My body is limp and he circles my hips and drags my up to lie next to him. His hands play with my hair and my hand finds the patch of hair on his chest, running my fingers through it gently as we both struggle to catch our breath.

 

“So you like the bikes?” He asks, turning towards me with a smile.

 

I shrug next to him and he chuckles softly, the movement causing my body to jiggle with his.

“I never thought a simple bike ride would get that sort of reaction from you.”

 

“Oh shut up.” I say but I find myself returning his laugh wholeheartedly.

 

We’re silent for several minutes. The sweat cools on my body and I become very aware of the fact that we’re out in the open and should probably get dressed soon as a cool breeze causes me to shiver.

 

Peeta wraps his arms tighter around me in response, seemingly content to lie here in silence for a while longer. My eyes fall closed in fatigue when I feel his fingers tapping insistently against my stomach. I lift my head to look down at him and notice a playful glint in his eyes.

 

“Are you ready to tell me why you were so disappointed when I bought them?”

 

I sigh and drop my head down to his chest. “I wasn’t disappointed. I just…It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

 

“So what were you expecting?” He asks. I can tell by his tone that he already has a pretty good idea of what my answer will be.

 

I sigh again and debate my answer for a moment. “I was thinking it might be one of those toys you were telling me about.”

 

A frown crinkles his forehead. “One of the vibrating ones?”

 

I nod and a slow smile spreads across his face. His fingers start circling my bellybutton and I press closer to him as he moves.

 

“And were you thinking it was one of them or  hoping that it was?”

 

I lift my head to meet his eyes and I frown towards him. Peeta simply raises his eyebrows and waits for me to answer him.

 

“Hoping.” I mutter, feeling heat rush to colour my cheeks.

 

Peeta lifts his head and presses a gentle kiss to my nose. “Then you’re in luck.” He says as he pulls away. “Because I ordered one a couple of weeks ago.

 

He’s looking up at me with a hopeful smile and I find myself smiling too. I drop a quick kiss to his lips and he sighs in relief as I pull away.

 

“Surprise.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction so I hope you enjoyed it!  
> I have some other writing published on my tumblr (beccabecalm.tumblr.com), feel free to check it out and let me know what you think.


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